


Good Girls Gone Bad

by NekoMida



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Dinner, F/F, Falling In Love, First Dates, Flirting, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 11:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoMida/pseuds/NekoMida
Summary: A dinner date is the perfect attempt to figure out your enemy's next move. Unless she's flirting with you.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38
Collections: Osmosis Exchange





	Good Girls Gone Bad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonster/gifts).

> DISCLAIMER:  
I know absolutely nothing about Killing Eve or its characters, everything written personality-wise was gleaned from video clips.
> 
> This was part of a challenge to write for a fandom you know little to nothing about, please excuse any inaccuracies!

She sat at the table, the knife twirling in her hand as she waited for her enemy to arrive. They’d agreed on the place to meet, the time, and what to wear even; Villanelle had chosen a thin red dress, something she found too enticing for Eve Polastri’s taste to ignore. And as Eve walked in the door, Villanelle was pleased to see the little black dress that she loved seeing Eve in, the zipper down the back all too tantalizing to commit to memory alone.

“You came.”

“You invited me. With roses.”

“Of course. What sort of date would this be if I was not taking care of you properly?” Villanelle’s eyelids fluttered, the knife in her hand placed on the table as she stared up at Eve, holding her hand out. “Sit. I’ve ordered us wine. But no food, not yet. I was waiting for you to arrive.”

Eve’s eyebrow raised, looking over the other woman with a way eye. They had been caught in this game, teasing each other from afar, playing cat and mouse for months until she’d finally gotten in contact with Villanelle in person. Now she wasn’t sure if she could stop the contact, the inevitable ending too far ahead of them to deny. Someone would die; it would be a matter of time and placement when it happened. And for a few moments, Eve considered it a shame that one of them had to die at all, the elegant setup provided by Villanelle much more romantic than anything her husband had ever done before he was killed.

Villanelle’s hand held out the menu, the bottle of wine arriving in a chilled bucket not long afterwards. Candles were lit, and the waiter promptly took their orders, leaving the two with their respective glasses of wine. It shimmered blood-red in their glasses, Eve swirling hers around as she thought of what she could say. 

That this was too easy, that she had people watching them, that she really wanted this to be real.

It could never be real, much to her chagrin.

“I saw you when you tried this on. This was my favorite of the choices. I was pleased when you bought it.” Villanelle took a sip of her wine, a drop of wine staining her lips and drawing Eve’s attention to her mouth. Watching her squirm brought Villanelle much joy, and Eve swallowed. “I’m even more pleased that you decided to wear it tonight.”

Eve took a sip of her wine, their bowls of salad arriving in haste as they continued to stare at one another, the sexual tension rising between them as Villanelle watched Eve take a bite of leafy greens, purposely dragging her fork across the red lipstick she wore. A constant war between them, to see who would falter first, who would take the bait. 

“I’m glad I bought it. It’s comfortable enough, and it didn’t raise too many suspicions.” Like the fact that she had bought it to go on a date with a notorious serial killer that she was hopelessly in love with, denying herself the emotional upheaval that it would have caused in her heart. Eve wasn’t allowed to like anyone else, and Villanelle had seen to that in the first place. Now they were here, having a romantic dinner after Eve had been waterboarded over and over again, coerced into coming alone.

And still, it felt real. Not like a game, but a real, genuine display of love from her enemy. A proper date, luring out vulnerability when she should have been taking every caution in the world.

Except psychopaths didn’t feel anything. For anyone.

Their eyes met once again as clattering from the kitchen sounded behind them, staring into the voids of each other’s souls. They thought about each other, wanted to know more about each other, wanted to experience life with one another. But destiny would never allow for that; they were enemies until the bitter end came forth, dragging the less fortunate soul to hell while the victor would mourn. 

For now, though, they could just enjoy dinner, talk like semi-normal lovers would. And nobody would suspect a thing.


End file.
